Strasbourg Arrival 9/24/2025

Getting to Strasbourg from Berlin is a long train ride — about six hours. Train food sucks, but I did manage a small sandwich on board and a couple of lovely “Spatten Oktoberfest” beers.

After I checked into my Airbnb, it was time to hunt for food. I ended up at a place called Au Brasseur, and by this point I was feeling hangry. I sat at the bar top and managed to get the bartender to speak English with me. I let him know I wanted food, and he told me I’d need to talk to a server about that.

Probably just my hanger, but I didn’t feel like he was very friendly toward me. I got frustrated. I tried communicating with ChatGPT (not much help in the moment), and eventually figured out I needed to move to a table. I didn’t even bother settling up at the bar; I just grabbed my beer and moved myself.

Eventually, I used my words and got a server’s attention. He was friendly, took great care of me, and I appreciated that because I was feeling a bit distressed. I ordered a second beer and the classic tarte flambée — the one with lardons and funky cheese. Maybe there were some mushrooms on it too; I don’t remember. I ate the whole thing.

ChatGPT tells me it was at least 1,000 calories. It was also the most unsatisfying thousand calories — I still felt hungry. I worked my way through their beer list, and the one I enjoyed most was the “Old Brown.”

I made my way back to my Airbnb feeling sad, defeated, and still hungry. I ate some biscotti I had brought while in Berlin and went to bed early. At least I got a solid eight hours of sleep.

The Next Morning 9/25/2025

The next morning, I found my way to a café. I like a high-protein, low-carb breakfast, but that’s just not possible in France. My plate was two slices of ham, two slices of cheese, a croissant, and a baguette with butter. Coffee with cream on the side.

It took forever to get the servers’ attention to settle up, and by that time it was already 11. I took a long walk through La Petite France, checking out the old half-timbered buildings.

By then I was starting to chase lunch. I really wanted to eat either rabbit or chanterelle mushrooms while I was in France. It just happened to be chanterelle season, but I spent so much time searching that it was suddenly 1:30. Restaurants close at 2:00 and don’t reopen until dinner around 6:30 or 7:00.

Coming from a restaurant background, I don’t like to show up 30 minutes before closing. If I worked in the industry, I wouldn’t want that either. Frustrated and angry, I gave up and went looking for a pub.

Lunch Frustrations

In Strasbourg, there are places called brasseries that are basically taverns or pubs and serve food all day. I found one, but the menu was limited. I ordered a gratin. It was good, but it needed salt — and there was no salt to be found. I hate it when restaurants don’t have salt on the table. It feels unprofessional.

I worked my way through a few different beers, then headed back to my Airbnb to hydrate. Back there, I started feeling hungry again, but it wasn’t dinner time yet…

Dinner

Flustered, I made my way to a place called What the Fox. It was a craft beer pub.

Walking in, I was a little hangry, or maybe my mind was just foggy from being hungry. The cute server greeted me in French. I couldn’t find my words. I was supposed to say Bonjour, parlez-vous anglais? but my mind went blank. I just stared at her awkwardly until she started to give me the same awkward look back.

Finally, I blurted out in English: “excuse me, I have forgotten my words… Bonjour!” She laughed, switched to English, and instantly lightened the mood.

She seated me at a table and brought me a beer right away. I told her I’d need food. The menu had a charcuterie board, plus nachos with guacamole. Tempting, but I was skeptical about “nachos” in France. I decided I was in France — so charcuterie it was.

It came with a nice basket of bread. Good bread, too. I worked my way through their beer list and then, once again, headed back to my Airbnb. Defeated, but at least full enough, I called it another early night. Another great night’s sleep, though.

Colmar Day Trip 9/26/2025

Being honest, my first 2 days in Strasbourg were a bit rough on me. I made it that way by being awkward and not wanting to offend the locals. I considered postponing my day trip to Colmar because of it. However, then I remembered I was Magnus-Mother-Fucking-Böner. I decided I was going to get up, put my boots on and move forward with purpose.

I was about a 30 minute train ride to Colmar. I arrived and made my way to the sexy part of town, “Le Petit Venice” Petit is right, fricken smaller than my wang…. It did not take me long to see the town. It was cute and quaint, but after some of the places I have been. It was underwhelming.

I was not going to fuck up this eating schedule again. I had scoped out a spot called ViStub Brenner. ChatGPT told me one of the specials most likely contained Chanterelle mushrooms. There are a variety I forage at home, and having them in France would be a special treat for me.

There was a sexy little Cafe near by. So, I grabbed a coffee, and did some writing to pass the time. I thought perhaps reserving a table would be a good idea. But online they only showed dinner reservations. So, I was standing 1st in queue at 11:45. So, I would have my best shot at a table when they opened at noon. Noon comes, and a bunch of folks with reservations are let in. When the lady finally got to me, she told me I was welcome to sit outside in the terrace. It was in the hight 50s but I had my wool vest on. It was paired with a wool henley, and a wool t-shirt.

A nice lady took my order. I asked her to coach me a little, because I don’t know shit about “fine dining culture”. I ordered a starter, I will call duck meatloaf, a glass a riesling, a bottle of sparkling water, and the pork cutlet covered in chanterelles and sauce.

A basket of bread was placed on the table. My wine and sparking water came out. I mostly drank the water. I know that wine is higher ABV than I am used to and can’t be quaffed. There was some kind of pork starter brought out. It looked like 2 tiny, bite sized meatloafs that were baked off in the smallest bundt pan you have ever seen. That is exactly what they tasted like too. Just simple, rich, and porky.

Next the duck dish came out. It was served cold. It was a blend of lean cuts, and ground duck. It looked like it was baked inside of a duck skin, and then sliced like bread. It was served with some kind of red, sweet, fruit sauce. It was an interesting, and rich dish.

Finally the main course came out. It was the tiny “button” chanterelles I am fond of harvesting erling season. They were in a creamy-esc sauce that had just the right amount of salt in it. They were piled high on a pork cutlet. (It was a pork chop). And when I cut into it, it was so dried out it would have made my aunt Shirley happy. The best part of this meal was eating those Chantelle’s and sauce on that tasty bread.

This was a nice experience. The glass of wine was completely lost on me. I can taste a lot of things, but I just can’t pull apart a glass of wine the way I can food and beer. The restaurant had a Michelin star. However, that was not a Michelin star pork chop. (See the reel)

Lunch in me, Le Petit Venice seen. Only one thing left to do. Find the brewery! Brasserie de Grillen was about a fifteen minute walk. I walked through neighborhoods and industrial area. I found the brewery, and headed in. I used my French words to get the young man to speak English to me, and ordered up a Pils. Other than being hazy, it was a fine example. (See the reel for that) There was also a damn tasty raspberry beer, Blanche Frambrois. See the reel for that.

I made my way back to Strasbourg. I swung through a craft brewery called Le Petit Tigre, and had just one beer. It was a nice Biere Blanche. Later, I ate a pizza, and went to bed early.

Apparently, We Are Day Drinking 9/27/2025

I intentionally had an extra day. I had seen all the sights, but I had not eaten all the food, and dranken all the beers. I started the day with breakfast at a cafe. Of course, I had a croissant, and cafe. After killing a bunch of time with my writing hobby. I made may way to Strasbourg’s oldest craft brewery. It was called Brasserie de Lanterne. I made my way inside, and found a spot to sit. My beer tending was sexy. She was blonde haired, tatted up, about 30-ish, and had enough butt. Also, that French accent make me feel tingles in my jingles… I started out with 50 cL of Biere Blonche. I tried to order food, but found out the chef was stuck in traffic. So, I ordered another beer. Eventually the chef showed up, and I ordered Chicken cor don blu, with Pom friets. I have had them all the other places. Now I have had French fries in France. When my meal arrived it looked really nice. However, there was a portion of chicken I did not eat. It was not cooked-through sufficiently.

I started making my way closer to my Air BnB. My first stop was a cigar shop where I purchased 6 Monte Cristo number 4 cigars. I wanted the number 2, but this was all they had. These are mostly for my homies. I purchased some machine rolled French cigarillos for me. The next stop was the Irish Pub. Strasbourg has two of them. I walked into The Dubliners and spotted only a couple of empty bar stools. Once of them was near a cute lady. So, obviously that is where I wanted to sit. Before I did, I gestured and asked “Libre?” The answer was yes, so I sat down. As I am getting settled the cute lady packs up her shit and vacates. She was one of the servers taking her lunch at the bar top. I don’t know if she was just freeing up space for paying customers, or if I scared her off? They had Murphy’s Irish Stout on draught. I had that, and it tasted delicious! I made my way back to my Air BnB and lighten my load to just my fanny pack. There were about out 4 bars near my place, and I had not been to any of them. I am pretty sure I hit them all, but memories get fuzzy. At one, the beer was fucking awful. I had a Meteor Pils, and all I could taste was nasty dispence equipment. I choked it down, tried to chat up a lady, and moved on. Later that evening I had a perfectly poured Meteor Pils, and it was fucking delicious. Meteor also makes a spot on perfect Hefe Weizen. Meteor is the last privately owned Alsatian Brewery. All the others got purchased and consolidated. Meteor was founded in 1927, and mostly brewed Pils. In modern times, Alsace is seeing a craft beer revival. Meteor has increased their market offerings to embrace this.

Drunk Magnus Smashed a smash burger (see the reel) and hit up one more bar before crashing.